


regarding the rules of non-adulterous aphrodisiacs

by parcequelle



Category: Cougar Town
Genre: Episode Tag, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-25
Updated: 2012-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-30 02:46:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parcequelle/pseuds/parcequelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's funny how he thinks it's a joke. (Post-ep for 1x11 'Rhino Skin.')</p>
            </blockquote>





	regarding the rules of non-adulterous aphrodisiacs

“It’s funny how he thinks this is a joke, huh?” Jules says this as she is tugging Ellie the rest of the way up the stairs, as she is dragging her by their interlocked hands down the hall with a single-minded determination contrary to her conversational tone.

Ellie says: “Uh-huh.” She isn’t listening; Jules knows this and continues anyway.

“It’s funny,” she says, “but I guess it makes sense - I mean, he has no way of knowing the rules of strawberry sex.”

“Jules, how many times?” Ellie swings out in front of her, halts her with one firm hand, and pushes her up against her bedroom door. “Not strawberry- _specific_ sex. Sex that results from aphrodisiacs found in the four main food groups doesn’t count as cheating.” Ellie flicks her tongue over Jules’ earlobe and _bites_. “It’s simple.”

Jules gasps and glances pointedly at her. “Not really.”

“Whatever. I don’t make the rules.”

 _Yes you do_ , Jules thinks, but she’s too distracted to say it out loud because Ellie has gone back to kissing her neck and – “Oh, God,” she moans, and she sinks limp against the door as sensation ripples all over her skin. 

Jules reaches out and slides her fingers up Ellie’s sides in response, feels her skin pulse beneath her touch, rakes her nails across Ellie's back just to watch her arch and toss her hair. Ellie is like a furnace, radiating heat wherever she touches, and Jules moans something unintelligible even to her own ears and flicks her thumb to the clasp of Ellie’s bra.

“God, you're sexy,” Jules mutters before she can really think about it, and she’s about to panic and take it back when Ellie kisses her, locks a hand up into her hair and presses her body in closer until there’s really only a section somewhere around the mid-calf where they aren’t touching. Jules can still taste the richness of the cream on Ellie’s tongue, warm against the sweet tang of strawberries, and she lurches forward to get a better taste; it melts her, the combination of these flavours and this woman, divine, and she curls her tongue and savours Ellie’s groan.

She is losing herself in the feel of Ellie’s hips pinning hers to the wall, in the sinuous way Ellie moves in response to her touch, when she suddenly remembers how they got here: Ellie’s lips closing around a cream-covered strawberry – Ellie urging her to try one – Ellie and -

“Wait.” Jules stops, her hand at the v of skin where Ellie’s shirt dips between her breasts, and has to take a breath to steady herself when Ellie looks up at her in a haze of dark-dilated-pupil confusion. Jules' will to ask this question is all but consumed by her immediate desire to feel up her best friend, but she has to know, and she steadies herself before she asks, “It _was_ a joke with you two, wasn’t it? It wasn’t like us, where we just pretend it’s a joke but nobody guesses because it’s so obvious that they just all miss it?”

“My God, Jules, be more neurotic.” Ellie rolls her eyes. “Of course it wasn’t like us. You think he’d be cool with us being up here right now if it was?”

Jules has to admit that her logic is flawless. She may never get used to Ellie’s unfailing ability to be rational in unlikely situations for which she is (mostly) responsible, but Jules nods and says, “I’m good. Continue.” And Ellie says, "Good," and does.

This is working out well for her. Years spent being best friends – and periodically indulging in similar activities – results in Ellie knowing exactly what to do, where to touch, where not to touch for maximum effect in minimum time, and Ellie is just in the process of tossing Jules’ shirt to the floor when a voice floats up from below them.

“Jules? You two okay up there?”

Jeff. She can hear him walking around at the foot of the stairs, and while she knows that when she and Ellie do this it’s fine, it doesn’t count as cheating, she isn’t entirely confident he would see it the same way. With effort, she extricates herself from Ellie’s arms (always stronger than she thinks) and calls in an only slightly strained sing-song voice, “Coming, honey!”

Ellie snorts – there are never any comments, that’s another one of the rules, but Ellie can only stray so far from her generally snarky behaviour before she just winds up becoming a different person – and Jules glares at her, but Ellie doesn’t look especially chastised. Jules has a feeling it might have something to do with the smile she can feel on her face, and maybe the fact that she wasn't that scary in the first place.

Jeff is saying something that ends in “...then,” and Jules hopes she hasn’t missed something important. She glances back at Ellie only to find her best friend’s eyes still fixed on her own, and she takes a sharp breath in at the intensity she meets – Ellie’s eyes are usually the first she sees in the morning and the last she sees at night, even if it’s across the length of their gardens and then through both their windows, but she can sometimes still forget that Ellie is _smokin’_.

Her ovaries, though. They’re remembering right now, and they’re demanding that she remember. It’s quite a protest.

“Okay!” Jules calls.

What just happened?

Ellie is still watching her, smirking, and Jules is aware that her own total lack of a convincing poker face has probably just given away exactly what she was thinking (yet again). But now, looking at Ellie, feeling the race of Ellie's pulse in her neck when she reaches over to brush her hair aside, Jules finds she doesn’t really care. She also finds that she doesn’t want to stop, but she knows she must; Jeff is literally ten metres away, Trav could be home at any minute, and most importantly, she can’t start thinking about this thing with Ellie as anything more than a sanctioned act by the rules of strawberry sex (or whatever) because then she knows she’ll think about it too much, and—

“Jules, stop thinking.”

Ellie kisses her a final time – slowly, an indulgence that almost comes as a surprise – and Jules never knows for sure if Ellie actually said that or if it was just her voice (Ellie’s voice) inside Jules’ head. Her hands are on Jules’ hips, sharp fingernails clawing at her skin in a way that makes Jules whimper again, and Ellie draws in close to speak right in her ear. “Save it for next time,” she murmurs. “Non-adulterous aphrodisiacs show up more often than you’d think, all on their own.”

But when, three days later, Ellie happens to show up at her place with a bucketful of oysters and a far-too-innocent smile, Jules has to wonder if sometimes they have a little help.


End file.
